


Ad Victoriam Motherfuckers

by NextofKin



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Human Danse, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextofKin/pseuds/NextofKin
Summary: The soldier couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his own blood in his ears.  He hurtled at full speed across the debris-littered rooftop, his heavy steel footfalls shaking the withered structure.  His lungs strained in agony.  His heart thundered against his chest.  He’d lost his weapon.  His team had disappeared into the ruins as they fled, and he’d foolishly stranded himself on the precarious rooftops of Concord’s demolished canopy. Enemies were close behind him, their metallic feet scraping the ground.In short, Paladin Danse was thoroughly fucked.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Ad Victoriam Motherfuckers

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot that explores how everyone's favorite paladin may have met his fate. (like WHAT IF he was human but got replaced body-snatcher style??) Let me know what you think!  
> 

The soldier couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his own blood in his ears. He hurtled at full speed across the debris-littered rooftop, his heavy steel footfalls shaking the withered structure. His lungs strained in agony. His heart thundered against his chest. He’d lost his weapon and his team. When they were ambushed, they had disappeared into the ruins, and he’d foolishly stranded himself on the precarious rooftops of Concord’s demolished canopy. Enemies were close behind him, their metallic feet scraping the ground. In short, Paladin Danse was thoroughly fucked. 

They’d shown up out of _nowhere_. One moment he’d been leading his team through deserted ruins, the next they were completely overwhelmed. It didn’t make sense, and Danse didn’t really have the time to parse it out. He’d ordered a retreat, and even though everyone else seemed to get away, Danse was cornered. There had been five behind him at first- but he managed to shoot one in the face. Another body-slammed him and knocked his weapon down several flights of stairs. Danse was forced to abandon it. He’d blown the legs off another with a grenade he’d tossed down the stair well a few moments later. Now he only had eyes on one- not excellent but he could handle it. Danse still had two grenades and his power armor- he'd worked with less before. 

The building’s edge was swiftly approaching and Danse had limited options. He couldn’t stay there, and he couldn’t go back. His best chance was to jump. Danse hazarded a glance behind him. A skeletal, gen-1 synth was sprinting disturbingly fast after him. It was closer now than it had been moments ago, evidence of the paladin’s depleting stamina- he was only human after all. This _thing_ wouldn’t get winded, its legs wouldn’t tire out, and its heart wouldn’t fail: it was going to catch up to the paladin. Danse glared at the edge as he panted heavily from under his helmet.

Ten yards away. From behind him, Danse heard the synth’s eerily deep and mechanical voice, unlike any voice that could occur in the natural world.

“Indications that target will jump- adjust strategy accordingly.”

Seven yards.

Danse calculated that he would need to jump at the _very_ edge of the roof in order to have a snowball’s chance in hell of reaching the other building. He fixed his gaze at the adjacent rooftop. He’d show these abominations just what the Brotherhood was capable of.

Four yards.

“Target preparing to jump,” a synth said in an even monotone.

Three yards.

Two.

Danse took a deep breath and grit his teeth hard.

One.

Danse kicked off from the edge of the structure and rocketed into the empty air. For a moment, he saw the other rooftop and felt a rush of triumph- he was going to make it-

“Target acquired.” He heard the voice before he had time to register the words. Something heavy slammed into him from above, and he felt himself crashing to ground. He and his assailant fell six stories to the ground, the wind _whooshing_ deafeningly in his ears. He could barely think- what had just happened? Was something hanging onto him? The ground came up fast. With an earth-shaking _BOOM,_ the paladin landed with one leg extended behind him and a fist hitting the ground hard to keep himself upright. The synth, somehow, managed to remain attached to Danse’s back.

“Get off me!” he snarled, writhing and jerking as the robotic demon clung to his armor. Danse felt its metal fingers scraping along his body, grasping and tugging at the wheel on his back. _Is it trying to get me out of my armor?_ The metal fingers closed around the trigger to eject Danse and attempted to turn it. The soldier roared as he struggled against the parasite, fighting desperately to maintain his last bit of protection. He grabbed an errant arm and with a great tug, he flung the synth over his shoulders and onto the ground in front of him. The creature’s body skittered across the jagged pavement, its right arm still firmly in Danse’s grasp. It clawed at the asphalt with its good hand, sparks flying from its fingertips as it came to a screeching halt. Its glowing blue eyes slowly met Danse’s with no hint of emotion.

“Come on you _filth_.” Danse wielded the disembodied arm like swatter over his head.

The synth shot at him with inhuman speed. Danse swung the arm with all his might. The hit connected with a shower of sparks and the dissonant shrieks of grating metal. The synth flew backwards into the blown out carcass of an ancient automobile, leaving a dent as the creature crumpled to the ground. Danse wound up again, watching as the disheveled synth stumble to its feet yet again. 

“Target acquired.” The voice came from behind him. Danse wheeled around in time to spot the elusive fifth synth rocketing itself at him. Awkwardly and without much momentum, Danse _whacked_ its skeletal body to the ground. The remains of his improvised weapon splintered and broke apart. Danse had no time to recover as he felt hands on him- the other one having thrown itself yet again at Danse. Its spidery hands were tugging at his armor.

“GET OFF!” he bellowed, fear bubbling inside him now. Why weren’t trying to kill him? Where were their weapons? Why were they trying to get him out of his armor? It’s almost as if they wanted him alive… _why_?

Danse struggled against the first synth, watching helplessly as the second again rose to its feet. With a roar, Danse flung his body against the ashen vehicle behind him, crushing the synth on his back.

“Unit compromised,” it droned with a fading voice. The other synth jumped at him, but Danse dodged. The ruined body of its companion fell to the ground as Danse jumped to the side.

“Target acquired.” Another voice- a _sixth_ synth- sounded from somewhere nearby.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Danse hisses breathlessly. Danse spun around to spot his quarry. _Where is it?_ The other synth lunged, and again Danse managed to a sluggish sidestep. He had to make a run for it; he couldn’t face two of them in close combat again- he was running out of steam fast. Not to mention his armor’s integrity was failing. His HUD showed him that he’d lost the plating on his left arm and his chassis was severely damaged. Soon, his faithful suit of armor would be no protection at all.

Danse’s body ached and he could barely breath. His limbs felt like lead as he willed himself to keep moving. While the synth floundered on the ground in an attempt to get up, Danse took off down the debris-filled city street. His entire body was screaming and he felt as if he’d drop at any moment. Danse fiddled with a grenade- one of his precious last lines of defense- and pulled the pin. He tossed the explosive over his shoulder as he ran for his life. One…. Two… Three… Four…

He ducked into an ally on his right at the fifth beat, just as an explosion shook and rattled the street. Danse braced himself against the ally wall. Dust billowed in brown plumes and rocky chunks flew, the sounds of hundreds of tiny projectiles striking brick and metal peppered the air. After a few moments, the soldier stirred.

The paladin peaked into the street, hoping to god his pursuers had been caught in the blast. His eyes darted around the wreckage, and to his immense relief, he found no signs of movement. He reversed back into the alleyway and leaned heavily against the wall again, drawing in a painful breath. His heart had not slowed, his body still in fight-or-flight mode.

Finally, the paladin was able to catch his breath.

He smirked to himself eventually, gloating over his single remaining grenade. He hadn’t even needed to use it. Danse had been in some pretty tough scrapes in his time and that day had quickly become one of his worse experiences. But he was alive. He’d done the Brotherhood proud. Now to get back to his team and-

“Target acquired.” Danse’s eyes flew open. He jumped off the wall, frantically trying to locate the synth. There was nothing at the opening closest to him, but at the far end of the ally, an able-bodied synth came into view. Danse grit his teeth and swore in frustration. _Fine- what’s one more?_

Danse advanced on the creature, which was walking slowly towards him. It didn’t run or charge like the others had. It walked with unnerving intention- its steely gaze fixed on Danse as its metallic joints hummed and clicked. It was almost like it was trying to hold his attention…

There was a flash from behind him.

“Target acquired.” Danse spun around in heart-stopping horror. Another synth was walking towards him with the same eerie intent. He was flanked, the two advancing towards him in an almost synchronized march. There was another flash.

“Target acquired.” _FLASH_.

“Target acquired.” _FLASH._

“Target acquired.” _FLASH._

“Target acquired.”

They’re monotone voices echoed around him. They just kept appearing out of nowhere, each cobalt flare bringing with it another cold-eyed automaton. Danse didn’t understand. He was completely surrounded, the onslaught of slowly advancing synths closing in. They weren’t shooting, the didn’t even have weapons in their claw-like hands. In a moment of grim clarity, Danse knew: they were capturing him.

“ _Shit.”_ He hissed to himself, at a total loss for what to do. Again, the paladin found himself with no options. Well- that wasn’t necessarily true. The paladin had _one_ remaining option. He metal fingers brushed against his last grenade. The dead-eyed army was closing in, the first few only a handful of yards from him now. If his choices were between the grenade and whatever the Institute wanted him for, the paladin knew beyond a shadow of doubt what he would choose.

Danse drew in a deep breath, filled with a calm and resolute determination. He grit his teeth and nodded to himself. This was the way- this was how it ended. Images flashed in his mind- the laughter of his team around the campfire, his best friend's smile the day they'd been made knights. Danse raised the explosive to his mouth and yanked the pin out with his teeth. He let the grenade fall to the earth before him, his heart beating wildly in his throat.

Five.

The first synth was mere feet away- its blazing blue eyes fixed on Danse. The soldier stared back.

Four.

The Danse’s heart pounded feverishly in his chest- as if it knew that in seconds it would never beat again.

Three.

Danse felt hands on him, their scratching fingers clawing and grabbing at his armor. Danse felt a fire in his belly and drew in one last breath.

Two.

“Ad Victoriam motherfuckers,” Danse growled through grit teeth, slamming his fist to his chest in a final salute.

One.

There was a blinding light.

And then there was nothing at all.

A figure clad in black leather arrived on the scene in a blue bolt of light shortly after the detonation. He scowled at the ruins from behind dark sunglasses. He picked through the smoldering remains of disembodied limbs. The mission had been rather difficult, for gen-1s anyway. They’d done the best they could. Still, the man thought he should have been sent for the job instead. But who was he to argue? The soldier had managed to take out seventeen synths that day, most of whom he’d dispatched without a proper weapon. This, the man thought, had been an adversary worthy of a courser- like himself. They’d wasted too many resources on one target, and the Institute was nothing if it was not efficient.

It didn’t take the man long to locate the hulking body of the Brotherhood paladin, inert and broken against the alley’s battered brick wall. He’d clearly been the epicenter of the blast- mangled remains of synths scattered the ground around him in a near perfect semi-circle. The courser took a moment to admire the soldier’s resolve: he’d chosen a fine death for himself. It was almost unfortunate that this wouldn’t be the last the Commonwealth would see of Paladin Danse. The courser tossed debris and the destroyed limbs of his brethren from the soldier’s vicinity without care or concern. Straightening, he peered down at his target and removed his sunglasses, revealing dark and quizzical eyes. Thankfully, the soldier had left his helmet on when he’d committed suicide. His head was completely intact. Excellent- that was all Father required for his work. Ideally, the paladin would have been _alive_ upon being taken into custody- fresh was always best.

But the Institute was flexible.

“Target acquired,” the courser said wryly to himself, smirking as he mimicked his less clever siblings. He crouched in front of the soldier and outstretched his hand. The man planted his palm against the cold steel chassis, just over the emblazoned emblem of the Brotherhood of Steel. There was a blue flash, and the courser disappeared, the soldier’s body in tow.


End file.
